The Difference between Guessing and Knowing
by coolbyrne
Summary: A guessing game reveals more than originally thought. G/S


TITLE: The Difference between Guessing and Knowing

AUTHOR: coolbyrne

CLASSIFICATION: GSR

RATING: PG

SPOILERS: None

ARCHIVE: If you like it, by all means.

DISCLAIMER: Oh, if only. Alas, I don't. Own them, that is. Or make money from them.

FEEDBACK: Compliments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Flames will be mocked in other forums. Any combination of the above may be sent to: fugitive@ihateclowns.com

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't recall ever writing so much as I have since I started to seriously watch CSI. I credit this to the fine writers who have created characters with just enough information to help out us amateurs, but not enough to stifle our creativity. Kudos to them, and to WP and JF for simply kicking ass together on-screen. And as always, a big thanks to papiliondae for her beta-ness… and her patience!

SUMMARY: A guessing game reveals more than originally thought.

*

Through the glass windows of the break-room, he could see three quarters of his team, sitting rather solemnly around the table. Nick's attention was directed towards something on the table, and Warrick and Sara's attention was directed at Nick. With a slight furrow of his brows, Grissom walked into the room, unnoticed except by Sara. He caught her eye, and tilting his head in a silent question he asked, "What's going on?"

She mirrored his tilt in the direction of Nick. Raising an eyebrow and barely suppressing a smile, she seemed to answer, "Check this out."

Grissom walked quietly around Nick to get to the coffee machine. Lifting the carafe, he took a sniff, as if testing the age. Satisfied that it was a relatively new brew, he poured himself a cup and silently made his way towards the table. It was from this vantage point, just slightly over Nick's shoulder, that Grissom could finally see what was captivating the young man. A spoon.

"Nick, what are you doing?"

When his body returned from being airborne, Nick gasped, "Jesus, Grissom! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Seeing Grissom's half-hearted shrug, Nick added, "And you broke my concentration."

Pulling out a chair, Grissom sat down and picked up the spoon. "Concentrating on what, exactly?"

Warrick snorted. "He's been trying to bend that spoon for over twenty minutes now."

Nick threw him a look. "Mock me all you want, but I'm tellin' ya. I took that ESP test and aced it."

"You got eight out of twenty five," Warrick corrected him. "That doesn't even make honour role."

Grissom narrowed his eyes as his brain connected the dots. "Let me get this straight. You're trying to use ESP to bend a spoon?" When he saw Nick's broad grin of agreement, he asked, "You know it's telekinesis, not ESP, right?"

Nick shrugged. "Tomato, tomahto."

"And every single reported case of ESP and telekinesis has been debunked." 

Now it was Warrick's turn to shrug. "We've been trying to tell him that all damn night."

"Besides, there is no spoon," Sara piped up. The three men turned to her in unison. "It's a line from a movie." This drew a blank and she shook her head. "Nevermind."

"Come on, Grissom," Nick said. "You're the primo scientist. With all the workings of the human mind, you don't think it's possible there are aspects of it we just haven't figured out yet?"

Grissom pursed his lips and gave it a thought. "I don't know, Nick. I have a hard time believing, this far into evolution, that if we needed the gifts of ESP or telekinesis, we wouldn't know about them. Seems like evolution has provided everything we need in the wake of not having these 'powers'. We have hands and fingers to bend things or pick things up. We have language to convey thoughts instead of hoping someone can read our minds."

"I don't know, Gris," Sara offered, "aren't there times when you wished people could read your mind?"

He looked at her, wondering for a brief moment if the double meaning in her words was intentional. Dismissing the thought, he picked up his cup and changed the subject. "Where's Catherine?"

Before his lips touched the rim, Sara said, "She's gone to get us 'real coffee', as she put it. That stuff's been sitting there for two hours."

Replacing the mug on the table, untouched, he returned his attention to Nick. "What was this test you were referring to?"

Picking up a nearby magazine, Nick answered, "Here. They had a really long article about psychic abilities and some tests you could take to see if you had any powers. I took the envelope test." At Grissom's expression, Nick clarified, "You're supposed to pretend there is a symbol in each of the envelopes. They give you five symbols to choose from and you pick one for every envelope. The answers are at the back and you compare them to your picks. I got eight out of twenty five."

"That's barely over chance, Nick," Grissom remarked.

"I know, but I wasn't even trying. If I had really concentrated, I would have aced it." Warrick rolled his eyes. "Scoff all ya want, but I'm tellin' ya, the only reason you're not helping me take the rest of these tests is because you're afraid I'll spook you."

"You're already spookin' me, man."

"What other tests?" Grissom asked.

Nick held up the magazine again. "There are four more you need to do with a partner, but partner here doesn't want to get freaked out."

Warrick reached over and grabbed the magazine. Holding it up to his forehead and closing his eyes, he solemnly intoned, "I foresee Nick never gettin' a call from Dionne Warwick." 

"Ha ha, very funny." He turned to Sara. "Come on, Sara, help me out here."

She held up a hand. "No way, Nicky."

"What? You afraid I'll read your mind?"

Tapping her forehead, she responded drolly, "I'm afraid you'll hurt yourself trying to figure out all the big words, sweetie."

"Ah!" he exclaimed, hand over heart. "That hurt, Sara, right here."

She looked over at Grissom, who had since confiscated the magazine and was scanning the article. "What do you think, Gris?"

"Hmmm?" Glancing between Nick and Sara, he said, "Oh, I'm sure Nick could figure out some of the words."

"You guys are killin' me here. You should take your show on the road, seriously." 

  
Warrick saw the silent exchange of glances between his boss and Sara. Suppressing a smirk, he said to Nick, "Fine, I'll help you out, but only if Sara and Gris get in on it, too."

Sara's head nearly whipped off her neck as she spun to look at Warrick. "You're joking, right?"

"Nah, come on. It'll be fun. Think of it as a group bonding experience."

"I'd rather bond over that coffee Catherine's supposed to be bringing," Grissom said.

Intrigued by the mischievous glint in Warrick's eyes, Sara turned to Grissom. "I don't know. I'm thinking maybe Warrick's right. Might be fun."

Nick quickly fished out a piece of paper and a pen from his coat. Grabbing the magazine from Grissom's hands, he slid the items across the table, and said, "Okay, here ya go. You read the questions, and as we're trying to figure out what the answer is, you write it on the paper, under the table so we can't see you do it."

Sara took the items and looked down at the magazine. Silently reading the question to herself, she then spoke aloud, "You guys ready? Here we go. I'm thinking of a number between one and ten. What is it?" Before she could even finish writing the number down on the piece of paper covertly held on her lap, Nick called out his answer.

"Seven!" 

Warrick shook his head. "Man, no one picks 'seven'. That is the most obvious choice." He tilted his head and looked at Sara. "Four."

She glanced over at Grissom. "What's your guess?" As he waved his hand to dismiss the question she said, "Don't be the hold-out, Griss. Come on."

Seeing the plea in her eyes, he couldn't refuse. "Fine." Removing his glasses, he leaned forward and gazed intently at her. He drew breath in quietly through his nose and exhaled softly through his mouth. Her eyes followed this unusual path from his eyes, to his nose, to his mouth, then back to his eyes again. The silence was almost palpable, until Nick was the first to speak again.

"You tryin' to read her mind or lull her to sleep?"

Without breaking eye contact, Grissom sat back and calmly responded, "Two." He knew the correct answer before she had the chance to reveal the piece of paper. It was her eyes, eyes which he had studied for much longer than simply the previous minute, that gave her away.

She tore her gaze away from Grissom and showed Nick and Warrick the answer.

Two.

Nick couldn't hide the wonder in his face or his voice. "How'd you know that?"

The older man shrugged. "Warrick was right. Everybody picks seven. It was too obvious. And statistics show women shy away from odd numbers, which left out one, three, five, your magical seven, and nine, leaving me with only four numbers from which to choose. I'll take one-in-four odds over one-in-ten."

Warrick gave an approving grin. "I would've loved to have seen you in your card-playing days."

Grissom returned the grin. "But see, Nick, that had nothing to do with ESP. That was some math knowledge mixed in with a bit of luck."

"Go on to the next one, Sara," Nick said.

"Okay. This one's a bit tougher. I'm thinking of a letter of the alphabet. Which one is it?"

"What??" Nick exclaimed.

"What's the matter, too tough for the Stupendous Stokes?" Sara jested.

"Write down your answer," he grumbled in return.

She returned the piece of paper to the top of the table. "Okay, I'm done. Nick, you want to go embarrass yourself by going first again?"

"Very funny. I'm gonna go with 'S'."

"Her initials?" Warrick hooted. "You gotta be kiddin' me. She's not going to pick her own initials." He pushed his tongue to the corner of his mouth to try and cover his smirk. "I'm going with 'G'."

If he saw the blush creep up into Sara's face, Grissom gave no notice. Instead, he brought his forefinger to his lips and tapped them twice before venturing a guess. "M."

Pressing her lips together to hide her laughter, she held up the paper.

M.

"I don't believe this!" Nick howled.

Grissom tried to console the younger man. "That bit about women not choosing odd numbers isn't entirely true. More women will choose an odd number if it turns out to be the middle number of a total. There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet. Figure the math."

"But you're not supposed to be using math. You're supposed to be using your extra sensory perception."

Warrick dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head. Grissom could only sigh.

"What's the next question, Sara?" he asked.

"These are getting progressively harder," she noted. "I'm thinking of a three-letter animal. What is it?" After writing it down, she looked at Nick. "Do you want to pass on this one while the rest of the class figures it out?"

"Not funny," he retorted. "I've got this one. A dog or a cat would be too obvious. I'm thinking 'cow'."

Now it was Warrick's turn to sigh. "Nick, man… think. The way these psychics reel a person in is by covertly making them reveal stuff about themselves that the psychics can then turn around and "reveal" to the customer. Sara hasn't touched red meat in over a year. There's no way this girl's gonna be thinking of a cow." He tapped his hands on the table, as if he could divine the answer from the beat. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "I think Nick's right." At the look of amazement from Nick, he amended, "Don't get all excited there, partner. What I meant was, I think dog or cat is too obvious, but the only other choice I have is to say 'pig' and I think that's about as possible as 'cow'. You seem like a cat person; independent, self-sufficient and moody." He made a face as her toe connected with his shin. "Yeah, that's my answer. 'Cat.' Ow."

"So what's it gonna be this time, Gris? This doesn't seem like a math problem," Nick remarked.

"Well, at risk of causing the world to spin off its axis, I agree with Warrick- you're right, Nick. 'Dog' and 'cat' are too obvious, and 'cow' and 'pig' seem, shall we say, incompatible. That leaves the only other three-lettered animal that immediately springs to mind. 'Owl'."

This time, Sara couldn't hide her shock. With a barely audible, "Oh my God," she showed everyone her answer.

Owl.

"Who in their right mind comes up with 'owl'??" 

"You got that right, Nick. Who, who?" Warrick laughed.

Nick leaned forward and stared at Sara. "You're somehow giving him the answers by blinking out a code or something." He looked under the table. "Or you're giving it to him under the table."

Warrick choked at the double entendre. Sara covered up quickly by admitting, "Yeah, that's right. That kick I gave Warrick? That was me inadvertently trying to kick out 'owl' in Morse code on Grissom's shin."

"Then I don't get it," Nick confessed dejectedly. "How did you know?"

Grissom held out his hands and shrugged. "Elementary."

"Ornithology," Warrick corrected with a grin. "But you do have to admit, Griss, that's a bit weird. You're three-for-three. That's incredible odds."

Nick sat back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Let me try and salvage some pride with the last question."

"Are you sure, Nick? You're already below the average of chance," Sara teased.

He held out his hand palm up and flicked his fingers towards himself several times, as if to say, "Bring it."

She gave an innocent shrug. "Okay." Scribbling her answer under the table, she placed the paper in front of her and asked the final question. "I'm thinking of a colour. What is it?"

"Okay," Nick said, "but if it's a weird colour like 'magenta' or 'indigo', I want you to change it right now and pick a normal colour." Seeing no change on her part, he went on, "Right, then. I might as well go first, since I'm already batting 1.000." He sat forward and placed his hand over the piece of paper containing her answer. Closing his eyes, it appeared as if he was trying to read the answer on the inside of his lids.

"Oh, brother," Warrick groaned.

Nick opened his eyes slowly and looked into Sara's. Several heartbeats later, he sat back once again and calmly said, "Blue."

Now Warrick roared. "You went through all of that to come up with 'blue'. You are desperate, aren't you?" Taking a good-natured jab in the arm, he pleaded to Grissom. "You see that? You're my witness. Employee abuse, from both of these two."

"Quit stalling and take a guess," Nick ordered, unsympathetic.

"Emerald."

"Emerald's not a real colour. I told her she couldn't pick a weird colour."

"Emerald's not weird, man. What are you talkin' about?"

Sara ignored the two men and turned her attention to Grissom, who had pleasantly unnerved her, if such a thing was possible, with his correct guesses.

"What do you think, Griss?"

"Maybe we should make this a real experiment and you tell me what you think I'm thinking," he suggested dryly. Now it was his turn to get a jab in the arm, but this time, it came from Sara.

"I'll be your witness, boss," Warrick offered.

Grissom laughed, but turned his full attention to Sara. Tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, he just… stared. He gently chewed on the inside of his bottom lip as he gazed at her. Silence descended upon the room and no one wanted to be the first to break it. With each passing second, Warrick and Nick inched forward, as if they were about to bear witness to an extraordinary event. Minutes seemed to pass; the room so quiet that when Sara's tongue came out to nervously wet her lips, it was heard by all.

"Teal."

The two younger men jumped at this sudden change of decibels. Sara blanched. Instinctively, her hand clutched around the piece of paper.

"Oh, shit," Warrick whispered.

"Well, let's see it, Sara," Nick cajoled.

Her eyes never leaving his, Grissom reached over to her hand and gently opened it with his fingers. When the paper was visible, Nick snatched it out of her hand and read it.

"No freakin' way!" He rolled up the paper and threw it on the table in frustration and amazement. "No way!"

Warrick unraveled it and read it aloud. "Teal. Man, it says 'teal'."

"Can you believe that?" Nick exclaimed, but Warrick was having none of it. His attention had returned to the pair sitting across from him, Sara's hand still resting in Grissom's. From the looks of it, they were having none of Nick at the moment, either.

Warrick made a show of looking out the window to the rest of the building and said, "I think I see Cat comin' with the coffee. Let's go help her, Nick."

The Texan was still too amazed by it all to refuse the not-so-gentle push by Warrick towards the door and out of the room.

"I can't believe it," he muttered as he left.

Unnerved by Sara's quiet stare of wonder, Grissom looked down at their hands, so naturally fitting together. But as soon as his eyes left hers, she spoke.

"How. How did you know?" she asked, barely above a whisper. His shrug was no answer for her. Turning her hand, she took his in her own and waited for his eyes to return to hers. "How did you know?"

"I don't know. I just… I looked at you and I just knew."

Her mouth dropped open at his choice of words, and his gaze was immediately drawn downward. Satisfied with the perusal of her mouth, his eyes went farther still, to the rapid pulse at the hollow of her throat. He watched the delicate skin contract as she swallowed.

"What am I thinking now?" she murmured.

The movement of her lips brought his eyes upwards, and paused once more at her mouth. Under his casual scrutiny, her tongue ventured out to moisten her lips, a repeat of her earlier nervous gesture. As if in answer, he subconsciously mirrored the motion. The flush that spread across her face gave him the wherewithal to deflect her question and supply a different answer.

"I'll tell you what I'm thinking," he spoke quietly. "I'm thinking we should agree to continue this test later on, before Catherine, Nick and Warrick come strolling around the corner with our coffee."

The smile reached the right corner of her mouth before stretching clear across her face. "That wasn't quite what I was thinking, but…" she nodded her approval. Leaning back, she reluctantly released his hand, and picked up the nearby magazine. In order to give his bereft hand something to do, Grissom reached for his coffee cup.

On cue, three familiar voices announced the arrival of their owners. 

"Teal!" Nick repeated. "Who picks teal?"

Grissom suppressed a snort and lifted the cold beverage to his lips.

Catherine stopped in her tracks. "Grissom! Don't drink that! Here." She placed a take-out cup in front of him. "God, that stuff's three hours old." He lifted the lid and raised it in thanks. Catherine shook her head. "Sheesh. What were you thinking?"

Grissom's eyebrows went up and Sara laughed.

"Teal!" Nick muttered.

-end.


End file.
